What's Cooking?
by Aggiebell
Summary: Harry's got a secret...or so he thinks.


**Author's Notes: **Written for the 2011 Making Magic fest at takingitinturns on Live Journal. For pepperam, who requested Ron & Harry bromance, Neville, household charms, and a dinner party that's not thrown by Molly.

**Disclaimer:** This is a work of fanfiction. Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom and all other characters mentioned are the property of J.K. Rowling. No profit is being made from this story.

* * *

><p><em>After a good dinner, one can forgive anybody, even one's own relations. – Oscar Wilde<em>

~o~

"Pathetic," Ron said.

"Hmmm?"

"Did you hear what I said, Potter? Pa. Thet. Ic. Harry? _Harry?_ Merlin's pants, would you _quit_ that?"

"Oi! What was that for, you plonker?" Harry glared at his best mate and rubbed his arm. Ron had just hit him—for no reason at all, as far as Harry could tell—and it _hurt_.

"Oh, decided to pay attention now, did you?" Ron said, smirking.

"I was paying attention," Harry said.

Ron raised his eyebrows, clearly conveying his disbelief. "Uh-huh. 'Course you were, mate. Then you can tell me what Neville and I were talking about." He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "Go on, then."

"Erm…" Harry said, "we were talking about that new case we just started…no, not that, it was Neville's new job, right? Or…"

Ron sighed and straightened up in his seat. "Just admit it, Harry. You've no clue what we were talking about because you were too busy pining after my sister."

"Wasn't pining," Harry muttered, even as his eyes drifted over to the bar, where Ginny and Hermione were talking with Hannah Abbott, "just…"

"Don't you dare tell me you were ogling her arse," Ron said. "I don't want to know. And," he said, turning to Neville, who was sitting across the table from them, "don't think I'm not noticing you watching Hannah, either. Perverts, the both of you."

Neville's ears turned a bit pink. "Can't help it," he said sheepishly. "She's pretty. Besides, she's really nice...and," he said in an afterthought, "a brilliant kisser." Harry stifled his laughter as Neville's whole face turned red.

"See there, Harry? _That's_ what I'm talking about."

Startled, Harry looked back at Ron. "What?"

"You need a bird, Harry. Someone to draw you out of your shell, help keep you occupied in the evenings. Especially since you won't get your head out of your arse and just go after Ginny."

"But—"

"I mean, even Neville's got a girl, Harry, and what have you got?"

"Thanks, mate," Neville said wryly, "such a compliment, being held up as an example like that."

Ron waved his hand nonchalantly. "You know what I mean." He leaned forwards in his chair, and Harry could almost see the wheels turning in his head. "You're in a relationship, I'm in a relationship, and Harry, the poor sod… he's got nobody."

Harry raised his eyebrows at Ron's melodramatic statement. _Poor sod, indeed. If only Ron knew_.

"So here's what we're going to do," Ron said. "We're going to host a dinner party. We'll invite all the old crowd so Harry can reconnect. Since he's obviously never going to make a move on Ginny, maybe he can find a girl out of that lot he doesn't have problems with."

"I don't have problems with Ginny," Harry protested feebly.

"Whatever you say, mate" Ron said, sounding like he didn't believe a single word Harry had just said.

"Hang on," Neville said. "What do you mean, 'the old crowd'?"

"You know, from school, the DA. Them."

"Ah. Right."

Ron turned to Harry. "We'll have to do it at your place, Harry."

"Why mine?"

"You live alone."

"You mean because Hermione would never let you do it at yours?"

"Yours is bigger, mate."

"True, that." Ron and Hermione lived in a tiny efficiency. It was very cosy, but even household expansion charms couldn't make it big enough to hold the number of people Ron was talking about. "When, exactly, are you thinking about doing this?"

"How 'bout Saturday? That will give you six days to decide what you're going to serve."

"Hang on, what _I'm_ going to serve? I thought _we_ were hosting this thing."

"You've eaten my cooking, mate. Puddings, I can do. Main dishes, on the other hand… They're not my strong point. You don't really want to send everyone to St Mungo's with food poisoning, do you?" Ron said. "I was going to do the invitations."

"You mean you were going to have Hermione do the invitations," Neville said.

Ron shrugged. "Same difference."

"Better not let her hear you say that," Neville said, smirking. "She probably wouldn't take too kindly to you volunteering her."

Ron looked around in a panic and then sagged in relief when he saw that Hermione was still at the bar with Ginny and Hannah. "So, it's a plan, then?"

Harry considered for a minute, then, fighting to keep a mischievous grin off his face, agreed. He'd been trying to find a time to tell everyone his news anyway, and what could be better than dropping the proverbial bomb at a dinner party with his closest friends?

~o~

"Your brother is an idiot," Harry announced to his girlfriend. "Completely mental."

Ginny curled up beside him on the sofa and kissed his cheek. "Which brother? Ron? Or George? Or are you talking about Charlie? He's not been at the top of his game lately, now that I think about it."

"Ron."

"What's he done this time?" Ginny asked.

"He's decided that 'we'—meaning _I_—need to throw a dinner party. A DA reunion, of sorts."

"Well, that's not so bad," Ginny said. "You were thinking about doing that anyway."

"Yeah, but I was thinking about doing it because it'd be nice to see everyone. _He_ thinks I need to do it because I need to find myself a 'bird'." Harry made quotation marks in the air at the last word, so Ginny would know it hadn't been him who'd said it. "'Since I'm 'obviously never going to get my head out of my arse and make a move on you,' he told me. He thinks bringing the DA back together will give me a nice selection of girls to start my search with."

"Git," Ginny said, rolling her eyes.

"Well, that's a given, isn't it? This _is_ Ron we're talking about."

"You didn't tell him about us?"

"Couldn't get a word in edgewise. You know how he is."

"Hmmm," Ginny said, nodding. "I do, don't I? So, when's this thing going to happen?"

"Saturday," Harry said, "but Ron and Neville are going to come over tomorrow night to plan the menu." He looked at her apologetically. "I hate to ask, but—"

"You need me to be elsewhere?" she asked.

"It's not that I'm ashamed of us," he said hastily, "it's just that… Ron's been taking the mickey about my love life for forever, and while I appreciate his concern…"

"You don't need his help?" she said, laying her head on his shoulder.

"I don't need his help," he agreed, even though he was still amazed that he'd managed to 'catch' her all on his own. "Since he's being such a prat about it, I wanted to surprise him."

"Ah… thinking like a Weasley, I see," Ginny said. "All right, then. I'll find something else to do tomorrow evening. Maybe I'll go see Mum."

He smiled gratefully at her. "Thanks, love," he said. "You're the best."

"And don't you forget it, Potter." She gave him a sly look. "You do know, of course, that you're going to owe me?"

"Oh, really?"

"Oh, yes."

"And what did you have in mind?"

"This," she said, extricating her hand from his so she could turn and straddle his lap. "Pay up, Potter."

He grinned. "If you insist," he said, wrapping his arms around her so he could lean into her kiss.

~o~

The next evening, Neville, Ron, and Harry found themselves sitting around Harry's dining table, surrounded by balled-up pieces of parchment, several quills, and even more bottles of Abbott's Absolute Ale, a new product Hannah had recently introduced at the Leaky.

"Right, that's those done," Neville said, flicking his wand and stacking the last of the invitations into a pile on the counter. "What are we going to serve?"

"Mum makes the best roast beef," Ron said, licking his lips.

"First of all," Harry said, "your mum isn't doing the cooking." He held up his hand to stop whatever Ron was going to say. "And, no, I'm not going to ask her. If we're throwing the party, then we're going to cook. Besides," he said, "it needs to be something relatively simple that can feed a lot of people without costing hundreds of Galleons. Sorry to say, Ron, but roast beef for twenty-plus doesn't count as simple or inexpensive."

"What about a curry then?" Neville suggested. "They're not that hard."

Harry made a face. "Gin—I mean _some people_ don't like curry. It should be something most people will like."

"What about Spag Bolognaise?

Harry shook his head. "Everyone serves that. We ate it at Seamus' last month and Ernie's the month before, remember? Besides, it's messy… and too easy. The whole idea here is to impress the girls, right?" he asked, trying to suppress the grin that was trying to escape.

Ron nodded sagely, and Harry fought back a laugh. Ron still had no idea.

"Gran's got a really good beef stew recipe," Neville said. "It's my favourite."

Harry considered that for a minute. "Maybe… but there's still that mess problem." He stared off into space for a minute. "Hang on, I've got an idea." He hurried into the kitchen and started rummaging through one of the drawers. "Where is it, where is it? A-ha! We're going to make this," he said, brandishing the recipe in his hand as he hurried back to the dining table.

"What is it?" Ron asked.

"Lasagne," Harry replied. "It's easy and makes loads of food, and most of it can be done ahead of time."

"Sounds good, Harry," Neville said. "Why don't I make the salad—I've got loads of fresh veg in the greenhouse at home. Ron, can you handle the pudding?"

"'Can I handle the pudding?' he asks," Ron said. "Look who you're talking to, mate."

"You realize that _you_ have to make it, right, Ron? Not your mum," Harry said.

"Or Hermione," Neville added, grinning.

"Can't I even ask for help?"

"Help, yes. A recipe, even, or instructions. But they can't make it."

Ron grimaced. "Fine. I'll do it myself."

"Right, so we've a plan, then?" Harry said. "I'll do the lasagne and some bread, Nev can do the salad, and Ron's in charge of the afters."

~o~

"How are the party plans coming?" Ginny asked. "Did you get everything done?"

Harry smiled. "We did. Neville's going to make the salad, and Ron's in charge of pudding."

"Figures," Ginny said, laughing. "What about you, then? Or are you not making anything?"

"I'm making the lasagne," he said, picking up the parchment with the recipe from the table. "See? It's not too hard."

Ginny leaned in to look more closely at the recipe. "Harry, look! It's got photos that show how to do all the steps. Is that… is that your mum?"

Harry smiled. "Yeah, that's her. I found this in our old house in Godric's Hollow—you know, when we went last year to see what could be salvaged? There was a drawer full of recipes in the kitchen. I brought them all home, but this one… Look, there's a note from her on the back," he said, flipping the parchment over and showing it to Ginny.

_James,_

_If you're going to be a prat and invite people over for dinner without checking with me first, then u__you/u__can do the cooking. Here's the lasagne recipe. I've included step-by-step directions, so even you shouldn't have any problems._

_I wouldn't let Sirius near the noodles, though. Remember that time he tried to help with the spaghetti?_

_Love,_

_Lily_

"Brilliant, isn't it?" Harry asked.

They watched photo-Lily work through the steps of the recipe. "Harry," Ginny said, "I think your mum's pregnant with you in this photo. She keeps resting her hand on her stomach, and there's a definite bump there. See?"

Harry looked closer and smiled. "I think you're right." He didn't have much from his parents, but this recipe was definitely a find. "Look," he said, pointing at his mother, who'd just hit a mysterious hand with the spoon she'd been using. "Dad must've been trying to sneak a taste."

"Like father like son," she said, nudging him in the ribs with her elbow and giving him a cheeky grin. "I seem to remember someone else trying to sneak a taste of things while the food was still cooking."

"Hush, you," he said, remembering the last time he'd tried to sneak a taste while Ginny was cooking. They'd ended up with chocolate spattered everywhere. He'd never had more fun cleaning up a mess.

"Make me," she said, her eyes dancing.

"If you insist." He turned and leaned in as if he were going to kiss her but ducked quickly and buzzed her neck instead. She squealed and he grinned, pulling away to buzz the other side, but she squirmed away, laughing and tickling him as she went. He joined in the tickling, and a few minutes later, they ended up in an untidy heap on the floor, with Harry looming over Ginny and both of her hands pinned to the ground.

"Ha!" he said breathlessly. "I win."

"Oh, you do, do you?" she asked, a broad smile on her face.

"Yep. Champion tickle-fighter, right here."

She squirmed beneath him and his breath caught. "What's your prize going to be, then, Mr Champion?"

His gaze flicked from her eyes to her mouth and back again. "I think," he said, leaning in until their lips were almost touching, "I'm going to claim a kiss." And then he did just that, sealing his mouth to hers and releasing her hands so he could tangle his own in her hair. And then he was lost to everything except Ginny, her body against his, her hands clutching his shoulders, her lips parting and allowing him entrance.

He pulled back and rested his forehead against hers. "Stay?" he asked.

She smiled, a slow secretive smile that made his heart speed up. "All right."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," she said, suddenly leveraging her body and flipping them so she was on top. She gave him a cocky grin. "Who's the winner now, Potter?"

His lips quirked and he looked up to see Ginny straddling him, her clothes and hair mussed, her eyes bright. "The winner?" he said. "That would be me, of course. No contest there."

"I knew you'd see it my way," she purred then she leaned down and kissed him senseless.

~o~

Since it was rather late when Harry and Ginny had gone to sleep, they enjoyed a lie-in the next morning, followed by a leisurely brunch before Ginny had to leave. "I'll see you tonight," Harry said as he shooed Ginny out of the house right after they'd finished eating. "You're sure you don't mind?"

"Harry," she said, leaning up to give him a quick kiss on the way out the door, "it's fine. I've got things to do, and this way you won't be distracting me all afternoon."

"You're calling _me_ distracting? _I'm_ not the distracting one. That would be you."

"Go cook," she said, giving him a little shove towards the kitchen. "I'll see you later."

Once in the kitchen, Harry reread through the lasagne recipe and Summoned the ingredients so he could start the sauce; according to his mother's notes, it tasted better the longer it simmered. After he set a knife to chopping the onion and mincing the garlic, he flicked his wand to turn on the stove and directed the minced meat into the skillet, adding the garlic and onion, then the tomatoes and the rest of the ingredients.

After the sauce was simmering and he'd started the dishes doing their washing up, he headed out into the rest of the house. He looked at the rooms critically; they didn't look bad, per se, although even with Ginny's help with some of the decorating, the place was still easily described as classic bachelor. He shrugged—there wasn't much he could do about the décor, even with magic. At least, he couldn't on his own. He just didn't have the eye for that sort of thing. Ginny, on the other hand… But that would have to wait.

His musings were interrupted by a knocking on the front door, followed quickly by Ron's head poking out the fireplace. He waved at Ron, who was stepping through, levitating a large box filled with… something, and hurried to let Neville in.

"Hi, Harry," Neville said cheerfully. "I've got what I need for the salad. And I brought a change of clothes over, too, just in case I don't get time to go home and change. Is that all right?"

"'Course it is, Neville. Come on in. Ron just got here, too." He led the way to the kitchen. "How's your morning been?"

"I had breakfast with Hannah," Neville admitted, blushing slightly, "so it's been pretty good."

"She doesn't mind you spending your day over here instead of with her?" Harry asked.

"Does Ginny mind you spending the day with us?" Neville shot back.

Harry stopped walking. "Why would she mind?"

"Erm… the same reason you just asked if Hannah minded me coming over?"

"No, I mean… She's not… She didn't…" Harry stammered, caught off guard. "It's not like that," he added lamely.

Neville gave Harry a sceptical look. "Don't judge the rest of us by how thick you think Ron is, mate," he said. "I know you and Ginny are a couple."

"How did you know?" Harry asked, resigned.

"It's pretty obvious, if you know what you're looking for," Neville replied. "The way you watch her, the way you touch each other when you talk." He hesitated. "When are you going to tell Ron?"

"Tonight," Harry said. "That's the whole reason I agreed to this in the first place. I just wanted to leave him hanging for a few days."

"You know," Neville said slowly, "he at least suspects you fancy her. I don't think he'll have any objections to the two of you together."

"I don't think he will, either," Harry admitted.

"So… do you mind? I mean, can I ask… Why did you keep it from him?"

"At first we just wanted something for ourselves. You know her family. Once you're involved, you're _involved._ It's almost impossible to get time alone. If it's not her mum, then it's one of her brothers. Don't get me wrong," he said, "I love them all; they're the family I never had, growing up." He knew that Neville, more than anyone, would understand that. "But they're a little overwhelming, you know?"

Neville nodded. "But then why didn't you say something later?"

"He kept pushing me at her," Harry said, shrugging.

"Isn't that a bit like hexing your nose to spite your face?"

"I'm not saying it's logical," Harry said, "but it was fun. The sneaking around, I mean."

"Oi!" Ron yelled from the kitchen, interrupting them. "Are you two coming to help, or are you going to stand around chatting like two old women at the tea shop?"

"Keep your knickers on," Harry shouted back, "we're coming." He turned to Neville. "Look, Nev…"

"Don't worry, Harry," he said, directing his contribution to the dinner towards the kitchen and following after it. "I won't say anything. Yet."

Harry nodded. "Tonight, Neville. I promise," he said as he pushed through the kitchen door.

"It's about time," Ron said once Harry and Neville had made it into the kitchen. "Look, I've got the trifle already put together, and the apple crumble's almost ready to go into the oven."

"Did you do that all on your own?" Harry asked, exchanging a look with Neville. The two of them had talked for all of five minutes, and every surface in the kitchen was covered with chocolate, apple peel, or flour.

"Well, yeah," Ron said. "You said I had to. No asking Mum or Hermione."

"No, you're right. Good on you, then," Harry said, staring in disbelief at his kitchen. "Erm. D'you think you could…" He waved his hand vaguely at the room.

"I could what?" Ron asked.

"What Harry's trying to ask, but is too polite to say," Neville said, "is whether you'd mind cleaning your mess."

"Exactly," Harry said, relieved.

"Oh, that," Ron said, looking around. He rubbed his hand across his forehead, leaving a chocolate streak behind. "Yeah, I reckon I could do that." He waved his wand, casting Cleaning Charms on the counter tops. Harry was impressed—the counter tops were cleaner than he'd ever seen them.

"Thanks, mate," Harry said. "Let's help Neville finish the salad and then we can check the house and make sure it's fit for company."

"I'm almost done," Neville said, "if you two want to start straightening up."

"Yeah, all right," Ron said as he started walking towards the kitchen door. "I can do that."

"Ron?" Harry said, right before Ron walked into the living room. "Don't bother with my room. I'll either get to it later or close the door before everyone gets here." He'd just remembered that Ginny had left some… things… in there, and while he thought they'd got everything hidden before she left, he wasn't completely certain if they'd remembered to retrieve her bra from the corner of the wardrobe.

"You sure?" Ron asked. "I don't mind. I'm good at those charms—the bed-making and clothes-folding ones, I mean. Mum taught me."

"No, that's fine," Harry said. "Your mum taught me at the same time, remember?" He smiled fondly. "She wanted to make sure we knew how to pull our weight once we got married."

Ron shot him a mischievous look. "Hasn't worked so well with you, though, has it? No wife in sight."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Wanker."

"You do know I'm married to Hermione, right, mate? There's no wanking going on in my house. Just good, old-fashioned sex."

Neville, who was putting the finishing touch on the salad, snorted. "Old-fashioned sex, Ron? I'd have thought you and Hermione were more adventurous than that."

"Ergh," Harry said. "Too much information."

Ron just grinned at him and went out to the living room. He stuck his head back into the room, asking, "Oi, Harry?

"Yeah?"

"What about the table?"

"What about it?"

"It's too small," Ron said. "There's no way you'll be able to fit everyone around it."

"Are you a wizard or not, Ron?" Neville asked. "I know your mum taught you the Expansion Charm."

"I don't think there's enough room in here, though," Ron said doubtfully. "Not for twenty people, at least."

"Actually," Harry said, "I think we're going to eat out in the garden. There's more room out there. Besides, it's supposed to be a nice night."

"Why don't I shrink this and take it outside, then?" Ron asked. "Do you know where you want it to go?"

The three of them trooped out the back door and Harry examined his back garden; they were going to have to work the furniture in around a few raised beds. "Hmmm, how about there?" Harry said, pointing to an empty spot to the left. "That should be enough room, and it'll leave enough space in the rest of the garden for people to stand and talk. We can put drinks and starters over there—I'll bring a few more tables out for that. We'll have to conjure more chairs, though, so everyone has a place to sit."

"What about dishes?" Neville asked.

"That's covered," Harry said. "I've got some from my parents, and there are more I salvaged from Grimmauld Place—Kreacher was able to keep Dung from making off with them."

They worked together, arranging furniture and Conjuring and Transfiguring chairs, and when everything was set, Neville ran inside.

"I almost forgot," he said, brandishing a handful of miniaturized flowers, which he set on the table. "I brought these, too—for decoration. _Finite Incantatem_." The flowers expanded into an explosion of colour on the table. "I thought we could put some on the table… see? There are centrepieces. And then these," he said, pointing to big urns full of reds, yellows, and greens, "can go at the edges and between the drinks and starters. I know you've already got some flowers," he said, indicating the raised beds, "but I thought you could use something more intentional, too."

"You're brilliant, Neville," Harry said, clapping him on the shoulder. "I hadn't even thought about decorations." Together they placed the arrangements around the garden, and when they were finished, Harry looked around with satisfaction. "Looks great, you two," he said. "Thanks for helping."

"Well, I am the one who volunteered you for this," Ron said. "It was the least I could do."

"Hermione told you to say that, didn't she?" Harry said.

"Of course," Ron said. "I tried to tell her that you didn't need to hear it, but you know Hermione."

Harry laughed. "I do know Hermione. I'm glad she's looking out for me." He checked his watch and did the maths… the guests were supposed to start arriving in about two hours. "We've got a bit of time," he said. "Why don't we go in and rest before everyone starts arriving?"

~o~

"Dean, mate, good to see you. And you, too, Lavender," Harry said as he opened the door. "C'mon in." He took the wine Lavender offered and directed them through the house. "Everyone else is out back."

"Are we the last to arrive?" Dean asked. "I kept trying to get Lav to hurry, but…"

"Shut it, you," she said, "it's not all my fault. _You're _the one who took one look at me and—"

"Lavender," Dean said, shooting Harry a look, "Harry doesn't need to know the details about why we're late."

"I had to repair my hair," Lavender told Harry, winking at him.

"_Lavender,_" Dean said, groaning.

Harry chuckled. "It's all right. I've already heard more than I needed to know about Ron and Hermione."

"Not from Hermione, though, I reckon," Dean said.

"Well, no," Harry said, "not from Hermione."

He opened the door to the garden, and they were met by a blast of music and a hail of greetings from the group already there. "Drinks are over on the right," Harry said, floating the wine in that direction. "And there's starters on the table next to them."

Dean and Lavender started to walk towards Seamus, who was talking with Neville and Hannah, and Harry looked around. Everything looked great, but there was one thing missing that would've made the party perfect. He started to make his way over to Luna and her new boyfriend, but the magically-amplified doorbell rang, and he turned back towards the house instead.

"Hi, love," he said when he opened the door to find Ginny standing there. "I was wondering when you were going to get here." He took her hand and led her inside. "You know you could've just come in, right?"

She smiled impishly. "I wanted to make an entrance," she said, twirling around.

Harry swallowed hard. She'd made an entrance all right. "Wow," he said, "you look gorgeous."

"Thanks," she said, squeezing his hand. "Am I the last?"

"You're it," he confirmed. "Everyone's out in the garden."

She led the way through the kitchen and dropped his hand before opening the door, and Harry wondered if they were doing the right thing by not telling Ron. He'd much rather walk out there with Ginny's hand in his. _Soon_, he promised himself.

"Oi, look who's here," Seamus said when he spotted Ginny. "Does this mean we can eat now?"

She laughed. "That's fine with me, but you'll need to ask Harry. It's his party, after all."

"Not just mine," Harry protested. "Ron and Neville helped, too." He looked around and saw Neville and Hannah heading into the house, finally spotting Ron over by the table of starters. "I won't bother asking Ron," Harry said, "because I _know_ he's ready to eat, judging by the way he keeps sneaking food off Hermione's plate, and Neville's already gone in to start bringing things out, so I'd say yes."

"Brilliant," Seamus said. "I'm starving."

Harry turned to Ginny. "Do you mind seeing if you can get everyone to sit down while we bring out the food?" he asked.

"Of course not," she said. She looked around to make sure nobody was listening. "I'll even save you a seat," she said quietly before turning and shouting, "Come on, you lot! Harry says dinner's ready."

While everyone was getting seated, Harry went into the kitchen, passing Neville who was directing the salad towards the dining table outside. Harry removed the preservation charms he'd placed on the food and started levitating the pans of lasagne and plates of bread out to the garden, directing them all to space themselves evenly along the table.

He joined them once everyone was seated and the food was on the table. "I thought we'd eat round the table tonight," he said, looking in turn at all of his friends gathered together, "since, well…" He broke off, embarrassed. "Ron suggested I hold this party because… well, the why doesn't matter," he said, giving Ron a mock glare, "but I'd been meaning to invite you all over anyway. I know the war's long over, and things are getting back to normal—"

"As normal as they can be around you, you mean," Ernie said, making everyone laugh.

Harry shook his head. "It's not _that_ bad around me, is it?"

"Do you really want us to answer that?" Justin asked.

Harry grinned. "No, not really. I just… We haven't all been together in a long time, and I thought it was time to change that. So," he said, gesturing at the food, "dig in."

Ron immediately reached for the lasagne in front of him, dishing some onto his plate before turning to offer some to Hermione. Before long, everyone at the table was eating and laughing together. George was holding court at one end of the table, while Terry Boot and Demelza Robins talked Quidditch with Lee Jordan and Alicia Spinnet.

"It's turned out well," Ginny said, nudging him with her knee. "The food's delicious."

"Always the tone of surprise," Harry teased, and Neville, who was across the table from them, grinned at her.

"You know what I meant."

"Of course, I do," he said. "But thanks, anyway." He looked over the table and saw that most people were finishing up. "I'm going to go get the pudding." He waved at Ron, who was starting to get up. "Nah, don't bother, Ron. I've got it."

"But—"

"If you really want to help, you can start clearing the dishes," Harry suggested. "But don't feel like you have to." He rose from the table and turned to his guests. "I'll be right back."

Harry was arranging the small plates on a tray and the trifle and crumble on a second tray when he heard the door open. He turned to see who it was and caught his breath at the predatory look Ginny was giving him.

"You can spare a few minutes, can't you?" she asked. "I told them I was going to come help. They should leave us alone for a little bit." She stalked towards him until he was backed up against the counter, and he gulped.

"Erm. A few minutes," he said. "They can wait, yeah?"

"Good answer, Potter," she said, running her hands up his chest and twining them around his neck. "I didn't get a proper welcome earlier."

"No?"

"No," she said, stepping closer. "I mean, you complimented me—"

"Because you're bloody gorgeous," he said.

"And I appreciate the sentiment. But there was no kiss, Harry."

"Oh," he said, placing his hands on her hips and pulling her even closer, "well. We'll have to fix that, then, won't we?" He closed the gap between them and she leaned up into the kiss, until they were as close as possible while still wearing clothes, their lips giving and taking until they were both breathless.

He swallowed hard. "Merlin," he said, "I love you."

She smiled. "The feeling's mutual, you know."

"I know," he said quietly. "Ginny—"

"Yeah?"

He closed his eyes, trying to concentrate. It was bloody difficult, the way her fingers were toying with his hair. "You know why we're giving this party here?" he asked.

"Because my brother's an idiot."

"Well, yes," he said. "But the reason it's here, instead of his place or Neville's?" She shook her head. "Ron told me it was because I lived alone. Because I wouldn't have to get in a fight about having twenty people over. Ginny, I don't want to have that reason anymore."

She stepped back from him. "What are you getting at, Harry?"

"I don't want to live alone anymore," he said. "I want to live with you."

"You'll get no objections from me. I might as well live here anyway," she said.

"Yeah, but… I'm not just talking about living together, though, Ginny. I mean, I'd love to live with you like that, but…" He took her hand in his, lacing their fingers together. "I want to… I want it to be permanent. I mean… Bugger. This isn't how I planned to do this." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "What I mean is, will you marry me?"

She flung her arms around him and kissed him hard, before stepping back and placing her hand on his cheek. He leaned into it and then turned his head to kiss her palm. "Is that a yes, then?" he asked hopefully. "I know it's fast, but—"

"Yes, it's a yes," she said, laughing. "As if I'd ever say anything else. I've been in love with you since Hogwarts."

"Thank Merlin," Ron said from the doorway, a stack of plates balanced in front of him. "It's about bloody time!" Harry had been so involved in his conversation with Ginny that he hadn't even heard the door open.

Harry raised his eyebrow and Ginny turned in his arms, leaning back against his chest. "What's that supposed to mean, Ron?" Ginny asked.

"Bloody hell. You two have been trying to hide your relationship for weeks. I finally had to con Harry into having this party so you could come out into the open." He set the plates on the counter. "Congratulations, by the way."

Harry blinked. "You knew?"

Ron smirked. "Of course, I knew. Anybody with eyes knew. All they had to do was look at you. Besides," he said, winking, "that bra hanging from your wardrobe today was a dead give-away."

"And you don't mind?" Harry asked tentatively. "We were going to tell you tonight. About the relationship, I mean, not the getting married part because that just happened. We just…"

"Mind? Watching you two try to sneak around and keep this all a secret? Hermione and I haven't had this much fun in ages," Ron said, laughing. "We've been making bets on how you'd sneak away or how long it'd take you to come clean." He got a gleam in his eye. "As a matter of fact," he said, grinning broadly, "she owes me. She said this would never work. Ha!" He waved his wand to levitate the trays with the puddings. "Shall I just take this out, then? You two can just… continue on where you stopped, if you want."

Harry tightened his arms around Ginny and then reluctantly stepped away. "We'll come," he said, grabbing her hand. "We can continue on where we left off after everyone leaves."

Ron shrugged. "Your choice, mate, but now you've given them a reason to celebrate, they're never going to leave," he said.

"Maybe Ron's right," Ginny said after Ron had headed out the door, letting it close softly behind him. "Maybe we _should_ just stay in."

Harry looked at her, squeezed her hand and straightened his shoulders, as if girding himself for battle. "Nah," he said, "let's face the music now. We can always have our own private celebration later."

"Promise?"

"Promise," he said and opened the door.

_~ Fin ~_

**A/N:** Many, many thanks to flyingcarpet for being an awesome mod, and to sherylyn, mollywheezy, queenb23more, and arnel_63 for betaing, with extra thanks heaped onto Arnel for her help in designing the dinner menu. For the curious, the lasagne recipe Harry used can be found at www dot retrofoodrecipes dot com slash lasagne_1978 dot html.


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